Falling
by Imogene Clarke
Summary: Elizabeth finds her self doubting her first impression of Mr. Darcy, just as she comes across him hurt and unconscious.


It had been a long week cooped up at Netherfield with the ever condescending Bingley sisters and the insufferable Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth's only escape was in the early morning when the rest of the house was still sleeping. She would pop out through the kitchen door and take a brisk walk around the property. This morning she decided to reverse the route she'd taken every morning, which took her past the stables first. During her walk, she'd reflect on the previous days events. Today was no different. She was thinking specifically of a discussion between her Bingley hosts and the stuffy Mr. Darcy on the criteria for an accomplished lady. She shook her head recalling the list of talents an accomplished lady "absolutely must" have, according to Ms. Bingley! The most refined gentlewoman in England isn't as talented as what the Bingley sisters believe they themselves to be. The strangest part of the conversation was when Mr. Darcy seemed almost to compliment Elizabeth while weighing in on the conversation. The look he gave her as he said "and to this, she must yet add something more substantial in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading" was not his trademark judgmental glare. It almost seemed warm. And even stranger was the response Elizabeth felt to his look, it stirred something in her center. As she thought of that feeling, her cheeks warmed even more than the brisk walk invoked. This train of thought led her to think on other conversations she'd had with Mr. Darcy. She tried seeing them from a different perspective, to remove the hurt his insult to her person created in her heart. When seen without this shading, she realized he always seemed interested in what she had to say. He challenged her opinions like her father did, without insulting her. Could he actually respect her thoughts? These thoughts carried her through most of her walk and she had resolved to make an effort to understand him better. One ungentlemanly comment should not determine a persons character for ever more.

It was at this point that she turned the corner of the estate taking her down the final leg of her walk. In the distance she noticed a lump on the ground. It was large, but the shape was in distinct. Elizabeth continued walking as she squinted to make it out. Was it a large tree limb, an animal, something blown into the path overnight? As she got closer, she ruled each of those possibilities out and a sense of dread began growing. Could it be a person? The color of the figure struck her as familiar and her pace increased. She realized the color was that of Mr. Darcy's great coat, a rich caramel brown he wore each day as he headed to the stables for his morning ride. Her walks always coincided with his rides, and she often watched him ride off on his giant stallion. Despite their differences, they seemed to share a partiality for early morning exercise. Before she realized it, she was running forward and when she reached the spot of the figure, she fell to her knees and saw an unconscious Mr. Darcy. It took her breath away to see the strong handsome man in this state. It was a feeling of fear and panic which she couldn't remember ever having. However, she recognized this wan't the time for that, Mr. Darcy needed help! She looked around for someone to call out for but it was too early and there was no one. His legs seemed to be in a hole about a foot deep and his torso was stretched forward on the ground. His forehead was stained with blood and there was also blood on the rock in front of him. She called to him "Mr. Darcy, please, please wake up!"

Elizabeth turned Mr. Darcy's face a bit to get a better view of his injury. She saw a gash in his forehead, with fresh blood still seeping from the wound. Growing up with four sisters and being one of the most rambunctious physically in the entirety of Meryton, she knew from experience to press on a wound to stop the flow of blood. She quickly grabbed the bottom of her petticoat, tore the hem off for a make-shift bandage and gently placed it on his wound and pressed firmly. This elicited a low grown from Mr. Darcy, which brought Elizabeth equal measure of comfort and agony. She tried to sooth him, telling him "it will be alright Sir, I am here and will take care of you." He had yet to open his eyes, but continued to moan and began to stir. Elizabeth told him he was hurt and should be still. He reached for his head and found Elizabeth's hand still upon his wound. All sound halted from him and with his eyes still closed, he traced his hand along hers and then proceeded to her wrist, her elbow, her shoulder, and finally came to rest cupping her cheek. With his hand resting there, he opened his eyes, and quietly whispered "Elizabeth." She was struck dumb by the use of her name, but even more so by the emotion in his voice and the feeling it raised in her. Her ability to speak was halted for a moment by the swell in her heart.

When she regained her wits, she began soothing him again and telling him it was alright, that she had found him unconscious due to a blow to his head, likely from a fall, but was taking care of him now. He seemed to regain an awareness of his surroundings and dropped his hand from her cheek and again touched her hand, which was still upon his injured head. She asked "Sir, do you remember what happened and how you came to be here?" He had recovered enough to respond quietly "I do not. Where exactly have I fallen?" She explained she found him on the path surrounding Netherfield, on the far side of the house and asked him "are you hurt anywhere else." He began to test each of his limbs and his face tensed in pain. It was obvious he was hurt beyond his head, but he did not utter a sound. When he completed the survey of his arms and legs, he closed his eyes and took a number of deep breaths. He stated very calmly "I believe I may have twisted my ankle and possibly struck my side." Elizabeth was very unsure what to do at this point, she couldn't leave him and she couldn't handle all that was wrong on her own. How was she to proceed? Mr. Darcy obviously needed a doctor and moved inside. Others needed alerted of the situation! She was looking around anxiously with these thoughts when she heard her name again, said in a most soothing tone, "Elizabeth" and she looked to Mr. Darcy. She saw a look of peace and serenity on his face, which made her forget why she was so anxious just moments ago. With warmth in his eyes, he calmly said "it is going to be alright, I just need a few moments to recover and I'll try to stand. Things are not so dire." She adamantly protested that he should think of moving, but he placed his hand on hers and again said all would be well. He did not remove his hand from hers, and a feeling of warmth and safety enveloped her. They both weren't wearing gloves and his skin was rougher than she would have expected for a gentlemen of his stature.


End file.
